Aftermath
by dragonartist5
Summary: Harry struggles with the aftermath of the Battle of Hogwarts, and his growing Godson. A series of related chapters and one-shots. Dedicated to those of us who felt the epilogue was not quite satisfying.
1. Prologue

_**A/N: All ships are canon. Dedicated to those of us who felt the epilogue was not quite satisfying.**_

Prologue ~

Harry sank into the closest four-poster bed he could find. He expected to feel something more. Something like triumph, or grief. Anger, happiness. A wonderful smear of both, perhaps?

All he felt was horrible numbness. The surreality of it all blinded him to anything else.

The dead had been gathered, lain side by side in the great hall. The wounded were tended by Madam Pomfrey. Water, food, and blankets distributed by the surviving house elves, and of course, anybody else well enough to help.

Harry found there was no place for him in the current chaos. His battle fought, his war won. He bid Ron and Hermione a hasty goodbye and retired where he hoped no one would follow.

The Fat Lady was nowhere to be seen, and he found moments later, that a password was not required upon his entrance.

The Gryffindor common room had been halfway demolished, rubble and debris strewn across the floor. The fireplace empty. It was quite silent, lonely.

The boy's dormitories, however, were left untouched.

Here, lying beneath Hogwart's ceiling, he was finally at peace. He was a warrior retiring to rest with renewed scars and heaviness in his heart, in the only place he had ever called home.

Sleep greeted him like an old friend. The best sleep he'd had in years.

He had to see him. Returning to the Great Hall after a long night's dreamless sleep, he felt a renewed wave of grief that knocked the breath from his lungs. Today, the dead were being transported somewhere, he guessed. The funerals would begin in the days to come.

In these earliest hours, no one was around. There were a few who slept on the floor, among the bodies of lost loved ones. They lay curled in the same purple sleeping bags that had been summoned for them on the night Sirius attempted to break into the Gryffindor common room. Harry's mind wandered to the foggy memory . . .

Lupin and Tonks' bodies had been covered by clean sheets. He knelt beside the two of them, breath hitching in his throat. A terrible pain had begun to rise in his chest. It was equivalent to a hard knot, twisting itself around his heart. Silent tears leaked from under his glasses, sliding down his nose, painting traces in the grime and blood that stained his face.

"I'll take care of him," Harry choked. "I promise." He couldn't bring himself to say more, though he knew a world of words should be said. They'd both given so much, asked so little in return. Lupin, whose life was so unfair and riddled with darkness, had finally received a bit of happiness. To meet his end now, with so much left to live for . . .

And Tonks! So young, a new mother. Her child left orphaned and alone. It was all too familiar to him, Harry Potter.

"I'm sorry." Was all he could muster. He hastily wiped the tears from his face, heaving himself to his feet.

He crossed to wear Fred Weasley lay. Molly and Arthur were not far away, fast asleep. They still sat at one of the tables in the Great Hall, hands interlocked, heads resting on the wood. He knelt beside Fred, silent. Use of words robbed from him, he sat wrapped in his grief. Sobs began to wrack his body, and he remained there until some force urged him to his feet.

He didn't know where exactly he was going, only that he had to escape the Great Hall. At least, for now.

He ran, tears blinding him, unable to feel joy or triumph when so many had been lost. Harry considered Fred, Lupin, and Tonks part of his family. To have them ripped from him so suddenly . . .

He found himself clutching the trunk of the old beech tree. The tree that he, Ron, and Hermione had sat under in between classes, hastily finishing homework under it's branches. The tears had lessened somewhat. His breaths slowed. He sat gazing over the treetops of the Forbidden Forest, wiping his runny nose. The cuts and bruises on his face twinged at his touch. He ignored it.

The giant squid was nowhere to be seen. The grounds were quite deserted, the sky just beginning to lighten. He wondered if Hagrid was in his hut, or up at the castle.

Thankfully, the numbness had vanished. With it, a mixture of emotions that left him confused and exhausted.

Someone's hand was on his shoulder. He woke from his stupor of thought, blinking. How much time had past since his blinded flight from the castle?

"Harry." He was glad to see Hermione. He managed a small smile. She seated herself beside him, putting an arm around his shoulders. He twisted around to see Ron a few steps away. He knelt down to join them. Their eyes were red and swollen. Nevertheless, they were smiling.

After a few moments, Ron spoke.

"What d'you reckon we do now?"

Harry had been waiting for this question. It had been burning a hole inside of him. What now? The war was over. Voldemort defeated. What in the world was he, Harry Potter, supposed to do now?

"I want to see Teddy. Lupin's son." He told them. Something in their faces darkened. A twinge of grief prodded at Harry's chest.

"Of course. We'll come with you, mate." Ron said. Harry nodded. "I'd like that."

"Harry, are you alright?" Hermione whispered, taking both Ron and Harry's hand in her own.

He gave her a reassuring squeeze.

"Never better, Hermione."

And he meant it.

Mrs. Weasley attacked him as soon as the trio stepped through the castle doors.

"Harry Potter, you come here right now."

He obeyed, a little alarmed.

She held him at arm's length, looking him up and down. "Go see Madam Pomfrey. You're hurt." Her fingers brushed the cut on his cheek.

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Wait just a minute." She held him tighter. Her brown eyes were sparkling with tears. She pulled him into a crushing embrace. He returned it, feeling a considerable weight lifted from his chest.

"Thank you." She whispered into his shoulder. He couldn't find the words to say something to her. She let him go and embraced her son, who turned pink but gladly returned her hug. She turned toward Hermione, taking her hands. She whispered something that made them both laugh, and hugged her too. She waved the three of them toward the hospital wing, tears now streaming down her face. Harry suspected, though, that they were tears of gratitude. Maybe even joy.

He allowed Madam Pomfrey to fuss over him, mending his various cuts and bruises. She suspected he'd cracked a rib somewhere in the fight. She had them all healed in no time at all.

"Move along, now. I haven't got enough beds for the lot of you!" She snapped, pushing them toward the door.

"Merlin's pants! You'd think she'd treat you with a little more respect. 'Cause you've just defeated You-Know-Who and all . . ." Ron chuckled. Harry laughed, shrugging a little.

The trio had barely made it a few yards before a pop came from behind them. Harry jumped three feet in the air, whirling around. Kingsley Shacklebolt stood before them all. Harry admired him, for his skill as an Auror, for his faith in Dumbledore.

"Apparently, you can apparate in the castle now." He said.

"Harry, I must speak with you. Firstly, I want to point at that you have undeniably saved the Wizarding World. By 'you', I mean all three of you." He gestured to Ron, Harry, and Hermione. "And for that, I thank you." Kingsley stepped forward and hugged them, a little awkwardly.

Harry knew Kingsley from the order, but never on a personal level. It occurred to him that maybe he should try to do just that.

They were smiling. Harry shrugged. "It was a battle intended for me. You can't imagine how glad I am that it's over."

Kingsley smiled, shaking his head.

"Oh, I think I can, Mr. Potter." He shifted his weight. "Second order of business. I have come to inform you that I have been named interim Minister For Magic. Professor McGonagall will assume the post of Headmistress, here at Hogwarts."

"That's great. That's really great . . . Congratulations."

Kingsley nodded. "It is an honor, of course. It is, however, a hell of a mess to clean up." He sighed. "Third. A memorial will be held for those who fell during the battle. I would like you to make an appearance."

Harry stood, dumfounded. "Of course I will." He said, quietly.

"Then I believe this is goodbye for now, Mr. Potter. I think Mrs. Weasley is looking for you."

He shook hands with the three of them, and with a pop, disapparated.

Harry shook his head. "How could he expect me to not make an appearance?" He asked them.

Hermione shook her head. "He didn't."

They found Mrs. Weasley in the newly transformed Great Hall. Students, teachers, family, and friends all sat at the four tables, tucking into a delicious feast. It was then that Harry realized just how hungry he was. His stomach growled, loudly enough for everyone in the Great Hall to hear. At the same time, a thought dropped into his head that maybe he ought to go find Ginny.

"Where's Ginny, Mrs. Weasley?" He asked.

"At the Burrow, dear. Arthur, Charlie, and George left with her just now. We'll leave after breakfast, dear. Tuck in." She said kindly.

He did as he was told, stuffing his face with sausage and toast as though he hadn't seen food in months. Which, in reality, was a little true. He hadn't seen a meal like this in months.

Bill, Fleur, and Neville joined them, moving with their plates to sit beside Harry. They made polite conversation.

"Is this it, then?" Bill said. He gestured to Ron and Hermione's hands, which were interlocked upon the table. Come to think of it, Harry hadn't seen them let go of each other since the day before. Another pang of guilt for Ginny stole over him for a moment.

Ron smiled sheepishly and Hermione turned pink.

"This is it." She said, and leaned over to kiss Ron on the cheek. Ron had a look on his face that Harry hoped he would never witness again.

Harry fought a strange urge to laugh and cry at the same time. They deserved each other, Ron and Hermione. It did take them forever and a half to get there. Seven years, to be exact.

Bill reached over to wring his younger brother's hand.

"Excellent choice, Ronald. You sir, better take care of this lovely lady." He joked. He leaned toward Hermione. "If he gives you any trouble, just give me a holler. I'll bash some sense into this ugly git."

Harry, Hermione, and Neville roared with laughter while Ron's ears turned pink and he shrugged.

They pushed back from the table. Mrs. Weasley herded them out of the great hall and into a courtyard. "Alright. Back to the Burrow, shall we?" She raised her eyebrows. Everyone nodded. "Hermione, do you have our-"

She held up her bag, cutting him off.

"Right, er-" Harry mumbled, nodding to himself. He took one last look around. There were so many people he wanted to talk to, so many people he needed see. Mrs. Weasley read it in his expression, he guessed, because she patted his arm reassuringly.

"You'll see them all again, dear. It's not like you're leaving the Wizarding World, for Merlin's sake." She said. He nodded. In unison, all of them turned on the spot and disapparated.

They reappeared in the front yard of the Burrow. Arthur rushed out the door to greet them. He helped Hermione to her feet.

"Alright there, Harry?"

He nodded, giving Mr. Weasley a hug.

They made their way into the house. Harry was itching to see Ginny, but was once again prevented from that as Ron insisted he take a shower.

"You smell terrible."

Harry felt his cheeks warm. Hermione came to his defense.

"Oh, Ronald. It's not as if you're any better. Both of you, take a bath." She snapped. "Not together." She added, which made them all laugh.

Hermione handed him a set of clothes. As he stepped under the hot water, he let his mind wander. It flitted between thoughts of Hogwarts and the war, to thoughts of Ginny, to his sudden desire to visit Teddy Lupin.

After several months of believing he wouldn't have a future beyond Voldemort, there were suddenly so many things he wanted to do, and it seemed, a world of time to do them.

He stepped out of the shower, dressed hurriedly, and made for the door. It opened before he could touch the handle, and he came face to face with Ginny Weasley.

Her face was twisted in a sort of grimace, her eyes locked on his with such ferocity he had to fight the urge to look away. He was reminded of their first kiss, and the wildness in her eyes as she ran toward him. He was witnessing it again, but the flipside.

There was no denying it. Ginny Weasley was outraged.

She stepped toward him cautiously, as one might approach an irritated Hippogriff. At first, Harry thought she might kiss him. No. Instead, she slapped him. He felt the sting of her hand against his cheek, but did not flinch away.

"Harry Potter." She said, quietly. "How could you?"

His stomach twisted itself into a knot. He thought he might prefer another go with Voldemort over this.

"You died. I saw your body. I saw you broken. I saw everyone else break when they saw you, when they realized. I felt myself break, too. So you tell me right now, Harry James Potter. How could you cause me to break so badly, and then ignore me?"

She said it all carefully, quietly. And somehow he could sense every ounce of rage inside of her, directed at him through her hand and through those words.

Before he could open his mouth to respond, her knees buckled. He caught her wrists and scooped her up in one fluid motion. He sat down on the bathroom floor and held her. He could feel her body trembling. It wasn't just anger for him. It was grief for Fred, the shock of the battle, everything. It had taken it's toll on strong, brave Ginny Weasley. Harry knew he need not say anything. At least right now.

So he held her while she cried, and he began to cry, too. Somewhere through the tears, they were kissing. It was a hot, wet kiss, but it seemed to fill up that void in his chest. It calmed the fear in his chest, and sent electricity running through his spine.

Finally, they both quieted, hiccuping as the sobs abided. There was a comfortable silence between them, in which they listened to each other gasping breaths and occasional hiccups. Both afraid to say anything for fear the comfort they felt enveloped in each other should disappear.

It was Harry who spoke first.

"Gin, I didn't want things to turn out like they did. I had no choice. I didn't tell you because I knew you'd stop me. It was the way things were intended. I am truly sorry." He whispered in her ear. His breaths stirred the fiery hair that stuck to her damp cheeks.

"You're right. I would've stopped you." She said, thickly.

"I would've put a full Body-Bind curse on you and marched out to that wretched forest to kill him myself."

Harry could feel the color drain from his face as she said the words, mixed with an odd desire to laugh at her.

He didn't say anything for a long moment. Ginny caught sight of his face and the smile slid off of her own.

He took a deep breath.

"Ginny, I need to tell you everything."

And he did. Meticulously, he unraveled his tale. Everything, beginning with Trelawney's Prophecy to the moment the Horcrux inside him met his end. The moment Lord Voldemort was defeated.

She paused him only to ask questions. When he was finished, they sat there in silence. Harry felt light as air, unloading all his thoughts and misgivings and emotions. She was grateful he was finally opening up to her.

After everything he said, the only thing she gave him was "I love you."

And they were kissing again, this time without the tears. Sitting on the Weasley's bathroom floor, unabashed emotion floated between them. For the first time in a long time, Harry felt ridiculous giddiness taking control of his brain.

Eventually, they broke apart long enough to realize they'd been sitting there for more than two hours. Harry helped her to her feet and held her tight to his chest a moment longer.

They found Ron and Hermione in Ron's room, unpacking.

Harry plopped down beside Ron, sending a couple books sliding off the foot of the bed. Hermione was busy sorting through a pile of clothes.

"Ron's mom told me I'm welcome to stay here. I think I will, this summer at least. We can recover, pick up the pieces, that sort of thing . . ." Hermione said, trailing off as she put together a pair of Harry's horrible, mustard-colored socks. With a pang, he realized he'd given Dobby a pair that was remarkably similar

"And then, I think I'll return to Hogwarts." She finished.

"What?" Ron sputtered, thoroughly shocked.

"I will be returning to Hogwarts on September 1st. Really, Ron, you'd think I only speak gibberish." She snapped.

"Merlin's pants! You're going back to Hogwarts? I thought we dropped out, remember? We defeated You-Know-Who, for crying out loud." He was starting to shout. "Blimey, Hermione."

Hermione looked bemused.

"I would like to finish my seventh year, and take my N.E.W.T.S. That's right."

"I'm not going back there." Ron said, shaking his head. "Hermione, why not stay here? Mum already told you, you're welcome here. You can share a room with me."

Hermione laughed and stood up from the floor, going to sit beside Ron.

"That's very nice of you, Ron. I don't think you're Mum would approve, however." She kissed him on the cheek.

"Well, I'll sneak into the castle then. Come see you every once and awhile. You have to promise me you'll come home for Christmas . . ."

He trailed off. A strange, soft look crossed his face as he stared at her. Harry looked away pointedly, catching Ginny's eye. She shrugged.

He cleared his throat, coming out of his reverie.

"Are you going back?" He said, whirling on Harry, who looked quite startled.

"Me? No, no I reckon I won't be going back. I'll stay the summer. Maybe I'll go back to Grimmauld Place for a while." He said. Ron nodded.

"It's only a year, Ron." Hermione said.

She resumed her place on the floor. Ron slid down to join her, stacking the books she handed him.

"You reckon we can see Teddy? Tomorrow?" Harry asked them. A smile found it's way onto Hermione's face.

"I'm sure we can."

Harry nodded, his mind wandering. They spent the afternoon in Ron's room, discussing their future. The path ahead of Harry seemed a bright one with Ron, Hermione, and Ginny by his side. Harry's worries melted.

When Mrs. Weasley called them for dinner, they made their way down the stairs in high spirits.


	2. At First Sight

Harry didn't remember much of the Tonks' house. Of course, He and Hagrid had just fallen out of the sky on a motorbike when he arrived here almost a year ago.

Andromeda Tonks greeted them warmly. This time, Harry could barely make out the resemblance between her and Bellatrix. Her face was lined and pale, her eyes reddened. She had, after all, just lost her daughter.

She ushered the three of them inside. Harry had sent Pig with a letter the night before, to let her know of his arrival.

As soon as the door shut behind them, she stepped cautiously toward Harry and embraced him. Harry returned the gesture.

"Thank you." She said. "Thank you, for saving us all."

Harry fought back tears.

 _Not all._ He thought. _I couldn't save Tonks. Couldn't save Lupin._

Hermione's eyes glittered with them. Ron put his arm around her.

"Would you like a drink, Mr. Potter? Weasley? Miss Granger?" She said, abruptly, as if remembering herself. She let go of him.

"No thank you, Mrs. Tonks." He said.

"Alright, anything to eat. You poor dears, wandering in the wilderness. You must be starved!" She exclaimed.

"Mrs. Weasley, has made it her mission to keep us well fed, I assure you." He chuckled. Andromeda gave a small, forced laugh, but her smile was sincere.

"Well, I suppose we should go see Teddy. Dora told me she made you his Godfather." She said, leading them up the stairs.

"Yeah. I was a bit surprised myself."

Andromeda patted his arm.

"Don't be silly! There's no one better, really. Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived, Teddy's Godfather! Blimey . . ." She chuckled to herself.

She led them into a small, brightly lit room. The walls were a bright, sky blue, the furniture carved wood. A mobile hung from the ceiling, featuring a trio of brightly colored Hippogriffs.

Teddy Lupin slept soundly below the mobile, wearing a red onesie. Currently, the baby's hair was a shock of black upon his head. As black as Harry's.

A smile made it's way onto Harry's face. Andromeda bent to scoop the baby in her arms. Teddy's eyes slid open, and immediately, his face broke into a wide smile. Andromeda handed the baby to Harry.

Teddy was small, and his happiness infectious. Harry smiled and cooed at his Godson, who giggled, little bubbles of saliva appearing at the corners of his mouth.

"I'm Harry." He told the newborn. "And that's Ron and Hermione." He pointed to the pair of them.

The baby grunted and wriggled in his arms. His hair shifted from jet black to bright purple.

"That's a new color, Tedders." Andromeda laughed. "He seems to show favoritism towards blue."

Harry felt an immediate and unshakable love for this little lump of a baby. He sat down on the floor, unable to take his eyes of Teddy's giggling face. He looked over at his friends.

Ron was smiling. Hermione, on the other hand, had a look of total adoration plastered on her face. One, he guessed, was reminiscent of a new mother.

He had to suppress a laugh. He'd never really thought of Hermione as a mother. She was, however, exceptionally good at keeping Harry and Ron in check.

"We're gonna have a lot of fun, aren't we, Teddy?" He said. Teddy lifted a pudgy little hand. Harry held out his free hand, and Teddy grabbed a hold of his index finger, grasping it in a tiny fist.

Hermione and Ron sank to the floor beside him. He passed the baby to Hermione, who seemed to melt. She cooed and sang to Teddy. The baby's purple hair became a royal blue. His face broke into a wide smile as he gazed up at Hermione. Ron was watching her with a tenderness that made Harry look away for a moment. He didn't want to intrude on them.

Harry moved to a spot on the sofa, beside Andromeda.

"Dora and Remus would want you to be in his life." She said quietly. "Come and visit anytime you like. You're welcome here, Harry. You're family, as far as I'm concerned."

Harry nodded, once again fighting tears. She could never know how much her words touched him.

"Thank you." He said, his voice breaking.

Andromeda busied herself downstairs, making tea.

"Are you ready to be a Godfather, Harry?" Ron chuckled.

"Not in the slightest."

Hermione laughed.

"Just be like Sirius."

"A dog?"

The three of them laughed, which caused Teddy to giggle, too, waving his fat fists in the air.

Andromeda reappeared in the doorway. "Tea downstairs if you want it."

Harry took the baby from Ron and laid him in his cradle. He gazed up at Harry, and his hair shifted a shade lighter.

"Bye, Teddy!" Harry said.

His response was a small gurgle.

They sat at the kitchen table to drink their tea, exchanging bits of polite conversation.

"Have they started rebuilding Hogwarts?" She asked, after a while.

"I don't think so. The students were sent home. They plan on holding a memorial service there, for the people who died fighting." Harry fell silent. Tonks.

Andromeda nodded vigorously. "I got Kingsley's owl. Teddy and I will be attending, of course."

"They'll have it cleaned up for the service. I don't exactly know how long it will take to rebuild the whole castle." Harry said. He imagined, however, they'd have Hogwarts good as new before the start of the next term.

"The Ministry is a total fiasco, I heard. They're trying to get as many hands on deck to sort out everything. I'm helping where I can, but now I have the little guy . . ." She said.

"If you ever need me to look after him, send an owl." Harry said, firmly.

"Of course."

Harry's mind wandered to the Ministry, and what a mess it must be. He wondered if they'd be calling on him for help. He had to remind himself he was only seventeen, and a dropout no less. He did, however, defeat Voldemort. For some people, that was good enough. Personally, Harry hoped they'd give him a nice long rest . . .

"We should be going." Harry said, standing. They'd long finished their tea. Andromeda stood up and hugged all three of them again.

"Come anytime, you three. Like I said before, you're family!" She said, cheerfully.

They bid her their thanks. She saw them to the door, waving as they made their way down the walk.

As they reached the front gate, the trio turned on the spot and vanished.


	3. Noble House of Master Potter

Harry woke to the smell of bacon. He was staying in Fred and George's room. His belongings had been moved here, his clothes unpacked and placed into drawers Sunlight fell in squares across the bed. With a groan, he placed his glasses on the bridge of his nose and slid out of the sheets, yawning.

He made his way down the stairs, following the mouth-watering aroma. Mrs. Weasley was in the kitchen. She looked a little better. Rested, at least. Her eyes, however, remained red and puffy. As did the eyes of all the members of the Weasley household, Harry included. Ron was eating breakfast alone, scanning through a copy of _The Daily Prophet._

Harry sat in the chair beside him, picking up a piece of bacon.

"Morning." Ron said. Harry grunted, his mouth full. Mrs. Weasley glanced his way.

"Good morning, Harry. Fancy some pumpkin juice?"

"Yes, please!"

Ron threw the paper down on the table.

"The memorial service is on Saturday." He said, in a low voice. "Everyone is welcome to attend. They're holding it at Hogwarts."

Harry nodded grimly.

"Any news about the Ministry?"

"Kingsley's got it somewhat sorted out, I reckon. Apparently, they're holding trials. They've got to sort out who was under the imperius curse and who wasn't. . . all this dragon dung."

Harry glanced over at the front page. A mugshot of their very own Dolores Umbridge glared at him from the paper. He looked back at Ron, who was grinning from ear to ear.

"Arrested for crimes against muggle borns. Brilliant, eh?"

Harry's eyes dropped to the scars on his hand and back to Ron. He too, was grinning.

"That troll deserves every second she spends in Azkaban."

"What troll?" Hermione appeared in the doorway, in a t-shirt and jeans. She crossed to the table and sat on the other side of Ron. In answer, Ron shoved the newspaper toward her. She picked it up and began to read, the corners of her mouth twitching upward as her eyes found the photograph of Umbridge.

When she finished, she folded up the newspaper and pushed it away from her, taking a piece of bacon. She continued, however, to wear a smug expression all through breakfast.

"Fancy a game of Quidditch?" Ron said.

"Yes." Harry said, immediately.

"No." Hermione groaned.

"C'mon, 'Mione." He said.

"You know I hate Quidditch, Ron!"

"Fine, I suppose you can help my dad degnome the garden."

Hermione looked torn for a moment.

"Oh, alright!" She snapped.

After breakfast, they made their way out to the makeshift pitch, pulling brooms from the shed . Ginny joined them, never one to turn down a game of Quidditch.

"She once told me she'd fancies playing for a real team. After Hogwarts." Ron told him.

"Really? She'd be great." Harry said, and he meant it. Ginny felt as comfortable on a broomstick as Hermione did in the Hogwart's library.

As he kicked off into the air, his heart soared. He missed Quidditch dearly during their search for Horcruxes. Almost as much as he missed Hogwarts itself.

Now, up in the air, he felt his heart lift. Ginny swerved past him, inciting a chase between them. It ended only when Harry managed to get close enough to give her a light kiss on the cheek.

Ron rolled his eyes at them, but he was too preoccupied trying to keep Hermione from falling off her broom. She clung to it, eyes wide.

"I'll catch you if you fall, 'Mione. Which you won't. You're doing just fine." He say softly, hovering beside her, one hand at her back.

She nodded, swallowing hard.

Harry dove, pulling off the Wronski Feint that he'd always admired since the Quidditch World Cup so many years ago. Ginny dove with him, painting graceful figure eights in the morning light. She looped back around and flew circles around him, ruffling his hair as she passed.

"Oi, lovebirds!" Ron shouted from across the pitch. "We should start the match!"

"Alright, alright. Sorry." Harry called, blushing.

Ginny shook her head in mock irritation.

He released the Snitch, which was actually a bewitched golf ball, and Ginny took up the quaffle, passing it back and forth between herself and Ron. Harry wove through the air, so in love with flight. He caught sight of the "Snitch", and dove for it, but it flicked out of sight again.

He returned to the other three, in turn passing the Quaffle to Ron. Hermione was still having a great deal of trouble, but she was smiling. He smiled to himself to.

 _It can't possibly get any better than this_. He thought to himself.

Part of Harry wanted to freeze the moment and keep living in it

For that reason, he could have tried harder when he saw the Snitch for the second time. It floated lazily away from him, and he pursued it half heartedly. Ginny dove under him and yanked his foot. He cursed under his breath as slipped so he hung upside down with his legs from the broomstick.

She laughed and took off, zipping away.

"C'mon, Harry!" Ron called, disapprovingly. He made a rude gesture in Ron's direction as he attempted to right himself. Just as he managed to pull himself up, the "Snitch" appeared about three feet below him. He turned his broom around and dove at it from the side, hand outstretched. His fingers closed around it and he pulled up, gliding past Ron and Hermione.

Ron was grumbling, Hermione smiling. As they landed, Ginny hugged him.

"You never disappoint, do you?" She said. Harry felt the blood rush to his face. He was quite pleased with himself.

"Anyone fancy some lunch? I'm starved." Ron said.

Hermione sighed.

"We just had breakfast, Ron."

Harry laughed. They bewitched the broomsticks so they zoomed into the shed off their own accord.

"Let's go inside, clean up."

They trudged back to the Burrow, still giddy and full of adrenaline.

Harry took a quick shower and dressed, heading up the stairs to find Ron. He reached out to open the already ajar door, but stopped when he heard voices. Hermione and Ron sat at the foot of his bed. Their arms were wrapped tightly around each other, their heads bent low. Ron's lips rested gently upon her forehead.

"Are you really going back?" He heard Ron whisper. His friend's voice was oddly hollow.

"Yes, Ron." Hermione sounded tearful, almost pleading.

Harry sprang from the door and hurried away, realizing he'd almost intruded on a very private moment. Downstairs, he found Ginny in her room. She was playing with Pigwidgeon, feeding him owl treats.

"Hey." He said, crossing over to her.

Ginny smiled at him. Pig let out a shriek and flew to his shoulder, nipping his ear.

"Hey, Pig." He said, wincing.

"Harry, you ought to get another owl." Ginny said.

"Yeah, I suppose you're right." He said, feeling the familiar pang for Hedwig. It had lessened some, but not much. He'd never really thought about getting another owl before. At least, not until now. It seemed a good idea, though. He was going to need one.

"Listen, I was thinking about going to Grimmauld Place. I reckon I might live there for a while, after the summer. I want to go see what's left of it." He told her.

"Today?" She asked. He nodded.

"Ron and Hermione will come too, I think."

Ginny smiled.

"Of course. I'll tell Mum." She gave his hand a squeeze and left the room.

Harry managed to shake off Pig, who chirped in annoyance and flew up to the top of his cage.

Mrs. Weasley was not thrilled about the idea.

"I can't stop Harry from going, but I can stop you. Ginny, it's too dangerous." She said. Ginny groaned.

"Mum, I'll be with Harry Potter. How much safer can I be?" Molly's eyebrows rose.

"You're both really young. I'm not so sure, without adults, and who knows what could be hiding in that awful house?" She trailed off, looking at Ginny.

"Alright. Home in time for dinner, apparate straight onto the steps, no funny business." She said sternly. "I'm talking to you, Mr. Potter."

Harry felt heat rise in his cheeks.

"Thanks Mrs. Weasley."

She winked at him, pulling him into a hug. She kissed Ginny's forehead and waved them off.

Harry ran upstairs, making sure to knock before he went into Ron's room. Hermione was curled up on Ron's bed, reading a book. Ron was nowhere to be seen. She put the book down when he came in.

"Where's-"

"Shower." She said, thickly. Her eyes were slightly teary. Harry pretended not to notice.

"We're going to Grimmauld Place. D'you want to come?" He asked her.

"Yeah, of course." She said.

"Why, exactly?"

"I reckon I might move there after the summer. I'm curious to see how bad it is after Yaxley got in there, after we stole the locket." He told her.

"Oh, I bet they ransacked the place." She said, grimly. Harry felt his insides clench in anger. It was his house, after all.

"Harry, it's going to need a lot of work." She said.

"I know. It'll. . . keep my mind off things." His mind wandering to the memorial service, just two days away.

"I'll need a place Teddy can stay, you know, when he's older." Harry added, pushing the thought from his mind. Hermione gave him a knowing smile.

Ron appeared in the doorway, hair still wet.

"Harry wants to go to Grimmauld Place and I'm going with him. So is Ginny." Hermione said. An incredulous looked crossed his face.

"Why d'you want to go back there? I thought the Death Eaters got a hold of it."

"They did, but when Voldemort fell, they fled. I don't think there will be anyone there. It'd be too easy for the Ministry to find them."

"You're right," Ron shrugged. "When are we leaving?"

"Now."

They went downstairs, where Ginny was waiting for them.

They said their goodbyes, and vanished.

 **. . .**

Harry wound up on the bottom step leading up to the front door of Number 12, Grimmauld Place. Ginny clung to his arm. She'd only just learned to Apparate, and even then, she wasn't permitted to do it outside of Hogwarts. Ron and Hermione appeared mere seconds later.

"Are you alright?" He said, grabbing Ginny's wrist. She nodded.

"Never better." She said, hoarsely.

He opened the door cautiously, and held it open as they all filed expected Moody's curse, and the dust figure, but nothing greeted them. The house was silent and dark.

 _Homenum Revelio._ Ron whispered. The four of them waited several seconds.

"We're alone." Harry said.

He heard a fumble and a small click. Lights zoomed into every lamp in the hallway.

"You brought the deluminator?" Hermione asked. "Brilliant."

Harry stepped forward.

"I guess the spell broke when Yaxley got in here." She said.

They moved into the kitchen. There, a mess awaited them. Pots and pans were scattered about the room. Drawers were pulled out and debris littered the floor. Splintered wood, broken glass, and shattered plates were among it all. Harry felt anger rise up in him like some unchained beast.

"C'mon." Harry continued into the living room. Mrs. Black's portrait was oddly silent. The living room, too, had been partly destroyed. Pillows were slashed open, papers scattered about the floor. Ginny bent down and pawed through them.

"Maps?"

Harry picked up the paper nearest to him. He recognized it as one of their hand-drawn maps they'd used to break into the Ministry, accompanied by Hermione's carefully handwritten notes. Luckily, they didn't give away much, apart from their plan.

"That wouldn't have helped them much." Ginny said after Harry told her this. "You'd already done it, hadn't you?"

Harry nodded. "Thankfully."

The moved deeper into the debris, but didn't find much more. It looked as if whoever had been here had made it a point to destroy as much of Harry's possessions possible. It was more than a messy search. It looked as if the world's biggest baby had thrown a temper tantrum.

They went upstairs, where the elf heads stared blankly at them from their plaques on the wall. A thought dropped into Harry's head.

"Kreacher?" He called. There was the all too familiar _crack_ as Kreacher appeared before them. He bowed low to each of them.

"Master Potter has summoned Kreacher?" He croaked.

"Yeah. Kreacher, I would like you to tell us what happened here after we broke into the Ministry."

Kreacher shivered. Harry noticed a few scars peeking out from under his cloth, and was reminded, again, of the battle at Hogwarts.

"Kreacher told them no. He told them not to touch Master Potter's belongings. They did not listen, tried to. . ." Kreacher swallowed, hard, and continued. "They tried to torture Kreacher."

Harry heard Hermione's sharp intake of breath, and looked around. Angry tears glittered in her eyes.

"Kreacher disapparated, went to Hogwarts."

"You went to Hogwarts? Did you work in the kitchens?" Harry asked him.

"Kreacher worked in the kitchens for Headmaster Snape. Kreacher listened for the whereabouts of Master Potter and his friends." He croaked.

"Death Eaters have unrightfully spread their filth over the Noble House of Black. Destroyed . . . destroyed Master Potter's belongings."

Again, Harry glanced around at the havoc before them.

"You fought, didn't you. You fought against the Death Eaters at Hogwarts."

Kreacher nodded, then threw himself on the floor, shaking his head repeatedly as if to shake off a swarm of pesky insects.

"Is Master Potter angry with Kreacher?"

Harry was taken aback.

"No, no I'm not angry. You did very well, Kreacher. I'm glad you made it through the battle. You have been, er-" Harry paused, gazing pitifully at the old elf. He realized he was still wearing Regulus' fake locket.

"You've been very brave. Thank you." He finished.

Kreacher raised his watery blue eyes to Harry's green ones and stood.

"Kreacher is happy to serve Master Potter and his friends." He croaked, and bowed low once again.

"Loads of improvement from a last year, eh, Harry?" Ron said, quietly.

Hermione laughed, somewhat tearfully.

"Loads." Harry whispered.

" Would you like to help me clean up this place? I'm going to come live here for a while." Harry told the elf.

Kreacher nodded vigorously. "Anything to preserve the Noble House of Black." Kreacher's face twisted into a strained smile.

"The Noble House of Master Potter."

. . .

The four of them continued into the hallway, exploring the rest of the house. It all looked the same, battered and ransacked. Belongings were scattered about the room. The only things to have survived, it seemed, were either cursed or protected by sticking charms. Harry felt an odd mixture of anger and relief.

He wanted nothing to do with most of the Black Family heirlooms. In truth, Harry only wanted to keep what was necessary and what was important to Sirius. He felt unbridled appreciation for his Godfather's decision to charm most of his photographs. They were left untouched.

Back in the kitchen, Kreacher served them a round of butterbeers. Harry took small sips, mind wandering. He'd have to start sorting things out eventually. Strangely, all the energy he'd possessed earlier that morning had vanished. He had no desire to start sorting through broken glass and shrunken heads at the moment.

When he voiced this to the others, they appreciatively agreed.

"Fancy some lunch? We can go into town." He suggested.

Ron glanced at him nervously.

"There'll be Muggles, won't there?" Harry nodded.

"Yeah, but, does it matter? You're wearing muggle clothes, aren't you? Hermione can order for you." Harry said, chuckling. Ron shrugged.

"It'll be fun, Ron." Ginny said.

"I guess you're right. If somebody starts oggling at us, we should leave." He said.

They finished their butterbeers. There was a strange silence about the four of them. Harry guessed it was because of the thoughts this grim, old house provoked. Dark pasts intermingling with bright futures.

With a pang, he thought of Sirius pent up here, even in his last days.

Harry felt, with a bit of work, he could make it a happier place. What was a house, really? A few pieces of wood and some bubble gum to hold it all together. All it needed was a fresh layer of paint.

"Kreacher wishes Master Potter and his friends a safe outing." The elf croaked, seeing them down the hallway.

"See you soon, Kreacher."

Harry offered his arm to Ginny, who gladly took it, and the four of them disapparated.

They appeared in a busy street lined with brightly lit pubs and shops. Harry opened the door to a little sandwich shop and they all filed inside. Hermione went to the counter to order while the three of them grabbed a table by the window. When she came back, she wore a look of deep concentration. One he'd seen on her face plenty of times before.

She plopped down in the seat next to Ron.

"Out with it." Ron said.

Hermione looked up in surprise.

"What are you talking about?"

"You're thinking about something. What's wrong?"

Hermione blushed.

"Well, I just think the Ministry ought to reward the House Elves. They risked their lives for us, you know. Some of them died." She said. "I was thinking they should reward the Centaurs and all the other non-wizard creatures who fought for us."

Hermione turned around to glance up at the counter. Ron seized the opportunity to roll his eyes at her, even though a look of total adoration was still present. Harry had to suppress a laugh. They hadn't changed much at all.

"You know, I think I'll bring that up to Kingsley the next time I see him." She said.

"Another go at spew, then?" Ron said, chuckling. She whacked him lightly on the head with the paper menu she was holding.

"Sorry." Ron muttered, holding up his hands to protect himself from any more blows he had coming to him. Instead, Hermione gave him a small smile.

"Actually, that's not a bad idea. Now that so many things are changing at the Ministry, it not a half bad time to bring it up. We could start to see some real change around here."

Harry could see the wheels turning in her head. He exchanged a glance with Ron. They both knew better than to argue with her. Ginny, who was as close a friend to Hermione as Harry was, nodded encouragingly.

Hermione Granger simply beamed. The waitress at the counter shouted something, and she seemed to come back into herself.

"I think that's us." She said and got up to get their food. Ron looked around sheepishly.

"She's really something, that Hermione." He said, and stood up to help her.

Hermione didn't bring up S.P.E.W. again as they enjoyed their sandwiches, but she was in a positively good mood the whole rest of the day.

Harry took a bite of his sandwich and glanced around. The Muggles around them chatted and carried on about their business, not paying them a second glance. Their t-shirts and jeans certainly helped.

Harry felt a surge of unreasonable invincibility at the prospect of his wand, tucked safely in the back pocket of his jeans. This concealed power, in the presence of all these unsuspecting muggles, was surely getting to his head. Finally, without Voldemort's threat looming over his head, he was able to appreciate it, if only for a moment.

Ginny hand found his under the table, and the lightness in his chest expanded. This had been what he was fighting for all along.

He, Harry Potter, was able to enjoy a delicious meal in the company of his favorite people in the world, without a death threat wavering over his head or a rude stare pointed his way. He could describe it in only one word. Freedom.

Harry Potter couldn't keep the grin from spreading across his face.

It felt impossibly good.


	4. Owls for Aurors

Harry didn't return to Grimmauld Place again that week. Instead, he spent a glorious day helping Ron with chores around the Burrow. They mucked out the chickens and helped Mrs. Weasley with the laundry.

Mr. Weasley, who'd been working extra hours at the Ministry, surprised them all by coming home for a couple hours, accompanied by Bill and Fleur. In which time, Mrs. Weasley prepared a picnic for them all.

They spread a large, hand-knitted blanket across the front lawn. Hermione bewitched bottles of Butterbeer to float a few inches above their head. One only needed to reach up and seize one out of midair if they so desired.

Mr. Weasley, Bill, and Fleur filled them in on the current happenings at the Ministry.

"Insane." Mr. Weasley said around a mouthful of sausage. "Kingsley looks as if he's aged ten years in the past week. Workers scrambling left and right, trials and lawsuits keeping us on our toes. Merlin's beard, in all my years . . . I've never seen anything like it." He said, shaking his head.

"It vill be alright, in time." Fleur said, glancing at her husband. Bill nodded.

"In time, yes. I trust Kingsley to do us good after so many years of corruption. Things will turn out . . ." He said. A shadow of worry crossed Bill's face.

A moment of silence hung over them all.

"Now, I heard Miss Hermione will be returning to Hogwarts. Correct?" Mr. Weasley said, smiling widely. Hermione gave a small nod. Ron, whose expression had become stony and unreadable, turned away.

Harry felt a prickle of worry. He hoped they wouldn't split up over this, not after they'd finally gotten together. He found himself siding with Hermione, though. It was just one year. They'd have plenty of chances to see each other.

"And what about you two. Harry? Ron?" Mr. Weasley asked.

"I won't be going back." Harry said, quickly. Mrs. Weasley's eyebrows shot up, but she didn't speak. She, however, rounded on Ron.

He squirmed guiltily under her stern gaze.

"I don't think I'll go back, either." He mumbled.

"Ronald . . ." She began, her voice trembling. To Ron's obvious relief, Mr. Weasley stopped her.

"Molly, he's an adult now. He's old enough to make his own decisions."

She opened her mouth, then closed it again.

"This is insane. You need to finish your education! You're only eighteen. How d'you expect to find a job?"

Ginny rolled her eyes.

"Mum, you really think there's anyone out there who'd refuse to give Harry Potter's best mate a job?"

Harry shot her a look that he hoped would say _Don't drag me into this._

She seemed to understand, because she smiled apologetically, her cheeks turning pink.

"I-oh, well, alright. I suppose . . ."

Bill's hand shot to his forehead in a sudden gesture. Everyone's eyes turned to him.

"I've only just remembered. Kingsley told me they're offering a position in the Auror department to anyone who fought against You-Know-Who at Hogwarts. Anyone who wants it, of course." Bill said. Harry sat, stunned by his words. His eyes found Ron, who looked just as shocked as he did.

"Wait," Harry said, struggling to find the right words.

"You mean to tell me they're just handing out jobs? Don't you need to pass any sort of test?"

Bill shrugged. "Well, there will be courses you'll need to take at the Ministry. I'm sure there is a test, yeah. I heard they're being really lenient. They need people, especially since there's so many Death Eaters on the loose."

The sun seemed a little too bright, all of a sudden. To conceal his shock, Harry reached up and grabbed a Butterbeer.

"Honestly, Harry, you of all people . . . I wouldn't be surprised if they sent you an owl any day now, offering you the job personally. They want you as an Auror. There's been a lot of talk. People agree, there's no one better."

Harry's head whirled. He said nothing, took a sip of his Butterbeer.

Of course there were other people more qualified than he. People with years of training. But Harry? He was eighteen-year-old who acted on impulse, and never without help.

Bill gave them all a hard look.

"You didn't hear that from me. I think they were planning on announcing it at the memorial tomorrow.

Molly did not seem at ease after this revelation.

"The Auror Department. Bloody hell, that's dangerous . . ."

Ron grinned, and leaned over to hug her.

"Honestly, Mum. Dark wizard catching should be a walk in the park after all we've done. Hell, I practically defeated You-Know-Who with my bare hands." He said, chuckling. Molly Weasley laughed softly.

So Harry had a house and an unspoken job offer. He let himself lean back, thinking hard about the future, indeed, was unfolding before his eyes.

"Alright, I must be going." Mr. Weasley said, standing up. He waved his wand, and the dirty plates in front of them zoomed into the house through an open window and landed in a neat little stack.

"Goodbye. Children, Harry and Hermione, Molly." He kissed his wife on the cheek and disapparated.

"I thought I'd stick around. The Ministry doesn't have a place for me at the moment." Bill told Mrs. Weasley.

"Oh, good. Stay for dinner, both of you." She said. Fleur smiled warmly.

"Vy don't I help 'oo with ze dishes?" She said, standing up. Mrs. Weasley looked pleased.

"Of course."

Hermione and Ron followed the two of them inside.

"Fancy a walk?"

It took Harry several seconds for the words to register. He was still struggling to digest Bill's words.

Ginny cleared her throat softly.

"Harry? Are you alright?"

Harry looked up.

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine. Brilliant, actually." He said, jumping to his feet. He reached and out and took her hand.

Together, they ventured out the front gate and down the hill.

"You must be excited. About what Bill said, I mean." She said.

Harry nodded.

"Yeah. It's what I always fancied myself doing, I suppose."

Ginny smiled.

"I should've known. You're not happy unless you're out fighting dark wizards." She said. She turned, ensnaring his face between her fingers. The kiss lasted only a few moments.

They continued walking, leaving the Burrow behind them.

"What about you, Gin? Ron told me about your Quidditch aspirations."

She made a face.

"Go ahead, laugh." Harry stared at her, blankly.

"I'm not laughing." He embraced her so their foreheads rested upon one another.

"You're gonna be the best effing Quidditch player on the planet. You already are, I reckon."

He could feel her smile when he kissed her, and felt his chest grow lighter. The effect Ginny had on him was both terrible and wonderful. When he was around her, everything that weighed upon him seemed to vanish. At the same time, he seemed to forget himself. Like he was swathed in this aura that made him want to cry and laugh and tap dance all at once. Harry Potter was certain there was no one else in the world that he loved more than Ginny Weasley.

And she knew it.

"Come on, Harry." She whispered. She took his hand and pulled him forward.

"Promise me, Ginny. You'll write to me. You'll come home for Christmas." He said, suddenly breathless. He found himself in the same predicament that had so recently trapped Ron. Ginny would return to Hogwarts to complete her seventh year, which meant that Harry wouldn't be seeing her much in the months to come.

She shook her head.

"Of course I will." Her words were heavy.

"Good."

They continued on. Their wavering conversation interrupted by a great deal of snogging. When they returned to the Burrow, hours had passed. Ginny disappeared into her room, leaving Harry to find Ron. He and Hermione were well into a game of Wizard's Chess. Hermione made a face at him when he walked in.

"Oh," She sighed, rubbing her temples. "This is hopeless. I'm rubbish, honestly." She said, as Ron's knight smashed her queen.

Harry laughed.

"Everyone's rubbish, compared to Ron." He told her.

Harry sat on the floor, still chuckling. Hermione was distracted. Ron took the opportunity to take her king. She threw up her hands at the violent end to the game.

"Oh, I've only just remembered." Hermione said. "Your mum brought us dress robes. They're for tomorrow's ceremony. Try them on, will you?" She gestured to the bed.

Harry stood, crossing over the neatly folded robes, lying on Ron's desk. They were brand new. He pulled them on. The black fabric fell around him, soft to the touch.

Hermione wiggled her eyebrows.

"Wait until Ginny sees you in those." She said. Ron cleared his throat pointedly. She chucked the book she was holding at him. He groaned, loudly. Harry gave her an exasperated sigh.

"It's a funeral, Hermione." Harry reminded her. She looked sheepish.

"I suppose you're right."

They fell silent. Harry knew they were all thinking along the same lines. Tomorrow would be unbearably painful. Bleak and tear-filled, a reminder of the wounds not yet healed. Harry would be regarded, once again, as a symbol. He'd be looked upon to say a few words, and remain a beacon of hope for those who had lost loved ones.

Harry swallowed hard. Hermione's eyes pierced him, and her face softened.

"It'll be alright, Harry."

Harry nodded, hoping she was right. Ron put his arm around her. Harry took a step forward and embraced both of them. Once again, Harry recognized the insurmountable comfort he found in them.

They returned it, holding on tightly, dreading the moment when they would have to let go.

The moment came when Mrs. Weasley's voice floated through the floorboards, calling them to dinner.


	5. Scars and Stone Soldiers

The Great Hall was unrecognizable. The four main tables had disappeared, and in their place, several circular tables that seated seven people each. Harry was reminded, suddenly, of the Yule Ball.

One long table remained, pushed to the far side of the room. It was laden with platters of food. So much food, in fact, that the table groaned under the weight of it all. Circular trays with goblets of iced pumpkin juice floated lazily around the room, six feet off the ground.

Witches and wizards in black robes meandered around. Some embraced each other upon sight, eyes filled with tears. Others nodded to one another politely, whispering quiet greetings. Some had smiles on their faces, despite the somber air.

It was distinctly melancholy. They were recognizing a great loss, and at the same time, celebrating a great victory. Everybody was respectful, overly polite.

It was odd, seeing the families of his fellow classmates, all thrown together. People who'd know each other for years, but also, people who'd never spoken a word to one another. United by grief and the need for human comfort in these times of darkness and confusion.

Ginny gripped Harry's arm tightly. He looked at her, and she gazed back at him with a blank stare. All morning, she'd been hiding behind an emotionless mask, her eyes blank and unyielding.

Harry couldn't help but notice how pretty she looked. Her long, red hair was plaited and intricate braids. She had on a long, black dress that swept across the floor behind her. Her light skin was shocking against the inky black. She resembled a raven in the snow, standing regally beside to him.

Ron and Hermione were in deep conversation with Seamus, George, and Angelina Johnson at the far end of the room.

"Do you want to join them?" Harry asked her. She nodded, slowly.

On their way across the room, he spotted his former Transfiguration teacher. Professor McGonagall gave him a wide smile, and he detected something in her expression that could only be _pride._ She pulled him into hug. He hugged her back, quite startled. He'd always respected Mcgonagall, but she'd never shown this kind of closeness to him in all his years at Hogwarts. She held him at arm's length, looking him up and down.

"Doing alright, Potter?" She asked. Though there were tears in her eyes, her voice was steady.

"I'm doing just fine, Professor." He told her.

"I'm glad." She said, and swept off. She wasn't the only one. Several people gave him wide smiles, or pulled him into tentative hugs. Others wept at the sight of him. A few even looked angry. The thought made his insides churn. The last thing he wanted was enemies, especially here. Especially now.

He returned the greetings and put on a small, sad smile. Inside, his heart hammered against his chest and his thoughts raced around his head. His hands shook violently, and he strongly suspected Ginny was the only thing keeping him from running for the door. She sensed his discomfort, gave him a reassuring squeeze.

After an eternity, they reached the others. Angelina hugged him at once.

"Harry! It's so good to see you, you know, alive. After everything that's happened . . ." Her eyes welled with tears and she seemed unable to contain herself. She hugged him again.

"Sorry." She muttered, mopping her eyes. George hastily produced a handkerchief and gave it to her.

"Thanks, George." She said.

"No problem."

Ron gave him a thumbs up. Hermione sniggered, hurriedly turning it into a cough so as to conceal it from Angelina.

"Do you know when it's supposed to start?" She said, looking around.

"Eleven, I think." Hermione said. Ron checked his watch.

"We've got loads of time. Fancy a pumpkin juice, Hermione?" He said. He took her hand and led her away.

"So, where were you before you came to Hogwarts? Everyone thought you'd died. You certainly disappeared off the face of the Earth." She said, regarding him with a stern glare.

Harry shifted uncomfortably.  
"Er-that's private." He said, quickly. Her face fell.

"C'mon, Harry. The war's over. Whatever happened doesn't matter anymore, you can tell us." She said.

Harry regarded her blankly. She was half right. Still, he wasn't ready to share with the world what they had done. Not yet, anyway. It was a matter to be discussed privately with Ron, Hermione, the Weasley Family, and possibly the Order. He ought to wait awhile, at least until things settled, before he went blabbing to the public. Personally, Harry wouldn't be terribly disappointed if he never mentioned it again.

"Sorry, Angelina. I'm not ready to share that. Not yet."

She gave him an exasperated sigh.

"Oh, alright. I won't bother you about it." She said.

"Good to see you, Harry. You, too Ginny." She told them, and walked off to join a group former Hogwarts students. They were in her year, he guessed. He recognized some of them.

George raised his eyebrows.

"Are you going to share that information with any of us, Harry?" He said. Harry nodded.

"Of course, mate." He said. "Just, not here." George nodded, winked at him.

Ginny brushed his cheek with her fingertips.

"Let's go get something to eat." She said, softly.

"Right." He said, letting her lead him to the table. He picked at some of the platters of food, but his appetite eluded him.

They joined Ron and Hermione at one of the circular tables. Harry remained there for no more than five minutes before he was startled out of his seat by a joyous roar above the din. Hagrid came rushing towards him, knocking over multiple chairs in his efforts.

Harry stood up as the half giant pulled him into a hug that nearly collapsed his lung.

"'Arry!" He cried. Harry could feel Hagrid's shoulders shaking violently. His cheeks were streaming with tears. Harry felt his own eyes grow wet.

"Good to see you, Hagrid." He choked.

"You doin' alrigh' Harry?" Hagrid sniffed. "I was so worried 'bout ya. And when you were gone for so long, doing somat about You-Know-Who . . ." He trailed off, crushing him in another gigantic hug.

"I'm alright, Hagrid." Harry said tiredly. He noticed a long cut reaching from Hagrid's temple to his chin. There were bruises on his jaw. Harry's mind raced as his eyes took in the wounds. Hagrid hadn't walked away from the battle unscathed. A horrible feeling settled in the pit of Harry's stomach. He had to reassure himself that Hagrid was alive and would be well in a short time.

Hagrid recognized the look in Harry's eyes and shook his head.

"This?" He said, gesturing to the gash. "A couple a' brute Death Eaters did this." He gave a gruff laugh.

"It takes more 'n that ter take me out." He said, grinning. "Believe me, 'Arry. Don't you go thinking on it. Don't you blame yerself."

He fixed Harry with a stern glare.

"I don't mean this," he gestured to the gash once again. "I mean everything. I know you blame yerself. Don't. Not everything is 'bout you, you know. You saved us. Don' let anyone tell yer otherwise."

Harry smiled reassuringly. At the same time, his stomach gave a nasty lurch. He stared at Hagrid's wounds. He knew there were a lot of injuries. He knew there were a lot of deaths, had seen the bodies himself. Still, something about Hagrid seemed to stir up a new kind of guilt inside of him. It was the equivalent of a parasite, and it would destroy him from the inside.

Hagrid hugged Ron and Hermione, then walked away to speak with Professor Sprout.

"He's right, Harry." Hermione said, a little desperately. "You can't blame yourself. Nobody expected you to fight this war by yourself. If it weren't for you, we'd still be fighting it."

Harry turned away from her. They sat in silence as the minutes dragged by. He watched Hermione and Ron exchange glances that seemed to carry an unspoken conversation. Ginny's face grew pale. She stared at him with an expression that suggested she was afraid he would run for the door or burst into flames, or both.

He tried to ignore them.

People continued to seek him out, offering him words of reassurance and gratitude. It improved his mood, but only a little.

The crowd people milling about the Great Hall grew steadily larger. The Hogwarts teachers looked harried, trying to get people settled.

Mr. Weasley approached their table. He, along with some other Ministry officials and members of the Order, had been helping Kingsley get everyone inside the castle.

"The service begins at eleven. I trust you knew that, already." Arthur looked around. Harry noticed his eyes were red, and a few more lines seemed to have appeared on his face. He looked older than Harry had ever seen him.

"Have you met the muggles? Family members and such. It's the first time they've ever been in the castle. Exciting isn't it?" He said. Hermione smiled, looking around. Something changed in her expression. Something clicked in Harry's head.

"Hey, Hermione . . . What about your parents?" He asked. Hermione looked tearful.

"They're still . . . in Australia." She said, her voice breaking. Ron looked at her, horrified.

"Well, why didn't you say something?" He said, loudly.

"Ron . . ."

"Hermione, come on. The war's over. We should go bring them back, you can reverse that memory charm and . . ."

He trailed off at the look on her face. He sat there, slightly dumfounded as two fat teardrops rolled down her cheek.

"'Mione," He whimpered, wrapping both arms tightly around her. She pursed her lips tightly, blinking.

"Sorry. I just, d-didn't think it was the r-right time." She said in a wavering voice.

"I'll go with you. We'll bring them back. First thing tomorrow, we'll go."

Hermione shook her head.

"They're right and happy where they are. We'll go when we go, Ron. No point in rushing into it." She said, her voice gaining some strength.

Harry looked away from them, and noticed Mr. Weasley looking very unsure, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet.

He mumbled something, patted Hermione on the shoulder, and walked off.

At eleven, everyone began to trickle out into the seating area outside, by the Great Lake. Rows upon rows of folding chairs covered the grassy hillside. It reminded him, remarkably, of Dumbledore's funeral.

Professor Flitwick greeted them squeakily and directed them into seats in the very front. It seemed, they were featured guests. War heroes.

Ron's family took seats all around them. Fleur was clutching a handkerchief to her chest. She clutched Bill's arm tightly with her free hand. Mrs. Weasley wore a stony, unreachable expression that matched Ginny's. Mr. Weasley's head was bent low, and he was speaking to her softly. His eyes were wet. Harry swallowed hard, a hard knot already forming in the back of his throat. He willed it to dissipate.

George sat beside Bill. His eyes fixated something invisible, in the distance. Harry felt the lump in his throat grow larger. Hermione told him George was having a particularly hard time with Fred's death. "Hard time" was a hell of an understatement. Who would think otherwise? The two had been inseparable.

Percy resided beside his mother, silent tears already streaming down his face. Hermione was not crying, but huddled against Ron. Like Mr. Weasley, he whispered words of comfort to her. His lips stirred stray pieces of hair when he spoke. Ginny was still has a statue. She clasped his hand in both of hers, tracing a thumb obsessively over his knuckles. She was not looking at him, but like George, seemed determined to memorize every detail of their surroundings.

Harry looked around, lips pressed tightly together, watching others take their seats. He spotted Luna, accompanied by her father. She gave him a small smile when she saw him. One he gladly returned. She took a seat four rows down from them, beside Neville's grandmother.

His eyes moved down their row. Harry felt a strong surge of relief rise inside his chest when he saw Neville, who waved at him. Beside him sat Seamus and his parents, two old wizards he did not recognize, and Professor Trelawney. Hagrid sat across aisle, in a chair that had been enlarged to support him.

The last of the guests were seated. Harry saw wizards and witches of all walks of life. Muggles. Children. Hogwarts Students. Even Mrs. Norris, Filch's old cat.

The house elves gathered in their own section. Harry was pleased to see Kreacher and Winky among them. The centaurs, Harry guessed, were attending in their own fashion. They were probably hovering at the tree line of the Forbidden Forest, which lay on the opposite shore.

Kingsley swept down the center aisle. Handsome black and deep purple robes hung around him. He'd taken his earring out for the occasion. He looked as steadfast and unruffled as ever, though Harry noticed a new scar that cut across his right eyebrow. Professor McGonagall followed closely behind him. It seemed, the two of them would be leading the service.

He reached a small platform in front of the sea of guests and faced them. His eyes met Harry's briefly, and he gave a curt nod. When McGonagall had taken her place beside him, Kingsley pressed his wand to his throat and spoke.


End file.
